Page 42 of Kings & Corruption

“That’s Brigitte Bardot,” he said. “She changed cinema.”

His face looked younger and more vulnerable with the lights of the movie flickering over it.

“You like movies,” I said.

His tongue snaked out, and I heard the now-familiar click of his piercings clashing. “You could say that.”

“Is that why you take pictures?” I asked, leaning back in the plush movie seat.

He hesitated. “I like stories.”

“Have you ever thought about going into film?” I asked.

He snorted. “Right.”

It was a dumb question. The son of a mafioso becoming afilmmaker?

It would never happen. Not with the blessing of any of our parents. Too much attention. Too many nosy fans and journalists.

I bit my lip. Why had I assumed I was the only one imprisoned by the expectations of the family?

I stifled a yawn and Oscar raised the armrest between us. He lifted his arm. “Come here. Get comfortable.”

I hesitated. Hadn’t I just lectured myself about not trusting these guys? Hadn’t I been lecturing myself since I got to the Kings’ house about not letting my hormones get in the way of good sense?

And yet…

I edged closer to him and rested stiffly in the crook of his arm.

He laughed and my pussy clenched at the sound of it. It was a late-night laugh.

A tousled sheets and all-night-sex kind of laugh.

“Relax,” he said, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m not going to ask you to marry me, I promise. Just consider us two insomniacs looking for safe harbor for a couple of hours.”

I slumped against him, giving up what little resistance I still had. I tried not to think too hard about the casual way he had of kissing me.

Like it was normal. Like we’d known each other forever.

I tried even harder not to think about the fact that I liked it.

That I liked him.

His scent did all kinds of things to my body, running straight from my nose to my pussy until I wanted to rip off his clothes and rub against him until I had that smell on every inch of my skin.

I focused on the movie instead. It was in French, but there were English subtitles. I tried to follow along for a few minutes but eventually just gave in to the images playing across the screen.

My eyelids were heavy, the weight of Oscar’s arm around me making me feel safe.

This was bad. Like, really bad.

I couldn’t let myself feel safe with the Kings. Any of them. At least not until I knew what had happened to Emma.

But it was one thing to tell myself those things. It was another to fight the pull of sleep tugging at my eyes, the way my body molded against Oscar’s side like I was right where I belonged,

I closed my eyes. I just needed to rest. Just for a second…

My eyes flew open. I looked around, feeling disoriented, then remembered.

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